Christmas Gifts
by thebestoftimes11
Summary: "Someone seems to have taken it upon themselves to decorate my lab." he groaned, falling into the seat tucked into his desk and dropping his head into his hands, massaging his temples with slender fingers. "Seems like they've left you a Christmas gift, too. Merry Christmas, Scrooge." Someone decides to spread Christmas cheer around the lab. Wrong time of year, I know.


**A/N: okay, so I know that this fic is completely off season since it is ROASTING here right now but I felt like writing this... I just think Greg would be adorable at Christmas! oh, and Bittersweet Revenge will be updated soon, sorry for the wait! anywaaaay, back to ze storryyyy:)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own CSI, and I never will :(**

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A young man walked upon paved streets, flecks of snow littering his golden curls, resting gently between lustrous locks. His chocolate eyes glittered in the street lights, reflecting the hazy amber glow they emitted, warming the crisp December night. His pale cheeks were flushed, delicate rose adorning his smooth skin, tainting it with a delicious glow. His leather clad hands grasped two paper bags, spilling over with lightly shimmering boxes tied with haphazard lengths of brightly coloured ribbon. He stepped through the front doors of the Las Vegas Crime Lab, heat wrapping her spindly fingers around his fragile form and pulling him close to her, her great warmth flooding his skin. The beautiful snowflakes balancing upon his curls melted rapidly, forming crystal droplets clinging to each hair, boyishly thick eyelashes victim to the same effect. His eyes fell upon a dark room at the end of the corridor, slender legs leading through the glassy labyrinth towards his destination. He flicked the light on, stepping into the room and inhaling the bitter scent of coffee and the sweet, sickly taste of Catherine's homemade gingerbread. He surveyed the break room, brown orbs sweeping over the dull interior.

"Right, G, time to get to work." He muttered, setting the bags down on the low glassy table. Strings of bright lights and glittering tinsel wrapping themselves around his slender frame as he battled to hang each lengthy strand around the room. He finally succeeded in draping a row of white snowflake lights across the cupboards, standing back to admire his haphazard creation. Nodding in approval, Greg turned back to a pile of coloured lights awaiting his excited touch on the table, their beautiful illumination falling across his flushed cheeks, creating a kaleidoscope of colour within his glittering eyes. Satisfied with his messy decorating, Greg turned his attention to a box of homemade mince pies, given an authentic Norwegian touch following his Papa Olaf's recipe. Each crumbling pastry delight was topped with a sprinkling of sweet icing sugar, marrying beautifully with the slightly spicy contents. Once laid out on a holly patterned plate, the young man scooped armfuls of presents from the paper bag, setting each upon the tabletop. Pleased with his best efforts at transforming the break room, Greg gathered the remaining decorations into his arms, peered around the doorframe, and set off down the corridor, spreading Christmas cheer along with a plentiful amount of glitter.

* * *

A single shimmering snowflake hung above the doorway to the Trace lab, showering David Hodges with shards of glitter as he ducked underneath it, hair now littered with white gold flecks of perfection. Grumbling to himself, the man brushed the offensive glittering specks that clung to each hair, intently ridding himself of the sole substance he'd grown to hate.

"Gosh, I hate Christmas." he muttered, batting away the string of multicoloured lights hanging from the ceiling of the lab, threatening to penetrate the thick shell he'd built around himself to protect against any sort of cheer.

"What's up, Mr Scrooge?" Hodges turned to see Wendy leaning against the doorframe, a beautiful grin plastered upon her face, a genuine smile reaching all the way up to her eyes. Hodges, however, was not susceptible to even the faintest glimmer of happiness, brow laced into a deep frown.

"Someone seems to have taken it upon themselves to decorate my lab." he groaned, falling into the seat tucked into his desk and dropping his head into his hands, massaging his temples with slender fingers.

"Seems like they've left you a Christmas gift, too. Merry Christmas, Scrooge." Wendy laughed, pointing towards a small sack sitting on Hodges' desk, before turning on her heel and leaving the Trace tech in stunned silence. He fingered the top of the bag hesitantly, as though nervous as to what it may contain. Ridding his highly intelligent brain of any fears, Hodges pulled it open, ducking his head to view what lay inside. He shook his head, allowing a rare, (non sarcastic) laugh to escape his chapped lips, before reaching into the sack.

"Coal," he turned the bag upside down, allowing a few lumps of dirty black coal to tumble out, trails of soot following across the glass tabletop. "It seems that I'm on the naughty list."

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A large box wrapped in sheets of blue paper sat on the bench in the locker room, 4 letters scrawled on the top- _Nick_. Said CSI soon appeared, tired yet beautiful chocolate eyes falling upon the gift, already wondering who to thank. Nick dropped onto the bench beside the mystery present, running his hands over the seemingly seamless paper covering the true prize inside. He slid a finger underneath a join in the paper, lifting the tape and peeling the shimmering wrapping back. Seconds later he held a stunning hat in his hands, cream suede ringed by a brown leather band. The beauty reminded him of days back on the ranch, riding through blowing grasses, an air of constant tranquillity surrounding both rider and steed on their journey. Placing the hat atop his brunette locks, Nick allowed his pearly white teeth to relax into a full smile, enjoying the familiarity and comfort the hat brought.

"Looking good, cowboy." Greg slipped past the doorway, glittering eyes fixed on Nick as he disappeared from view.

"What a guy." Nick smiled, shaking his head as he rose to his feet and proceeded to his locker, flawless smile never leaving his face.

* * *

A particular entomologist sat in the gloomy depths of his office, face shadowed by a sole lamp resting upon his desk. He worked on a crossword, paper crumpled, edges worn and tired. His pen sank into the page as he stared blankly at the boxes, blurring before his very eyes. Gil Grissom laid his pen down, rubbing a weary hand across his face, removing his glasses and setting them down beside his unfinished crossword. He closed his eyes, stretching his legs out in a search for some sort of release for his taught body. His feet met a box of some sort, and he opened his eyes, turning his gaze down to look underneath his desk. A heavy wrapped item met his sight, and he reached for it, slender fingers closing around it and pulling it towards him. An intuitive glint appeared in the man's eyes as he tore the paper from the object, ignoring the words written across a small piece of paper tucked between the two. A gasp escaped his chapped lips as he gazed at the heavy book nestled in his hands, brushing his fingertips across the golden writing embossed on the top.

"Insectlopedia," he breathed, in awe of the beauty he held between his fingers. "The only one I didn't have." He turned the pages, fingers brushing the glossy photographs of every species of bug imaginable, muttering their names under his breath as he admired his new gift.

It was quite a picture, that peaceful Christmas morning. A man and his insectlopedia, in perfect harmony.

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**Don't ask me what made me write this because I really don't know. Maybe a chapter 2 involving Cath, Sara and Warrick? Who knows! Hope you enjoyed :)**

**thebestoftimes11 x**


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